Blossom's Lament
by claihm solais
Summary: Lezard's take on the scene in the Weeping Lily Meadow. Some spoilers for the A ending, and Lenneth/Lucian with a hint of LezardxLenneth. One-shot.


**Author's Note:** This piece was heavily inspired by Shadowdancer's "The One Left Behind." I'm an avid fan of the Lenneth/Lezard pairing, simply because the guy's bloody brilliant! A little nuts and psychotic, but brilliant nontheless.

Disclaimer: I don't own Valkyrie Profile.

Summary: Lezard's take on the scene in the Weeping Lily Meadow. Spoilers for the A ending.

V-------------------------V

It's odd. It really is. There you are, the love of my life, my dearest Valkyrie, digging in the mud and earth for a piece of jewelry. I'd give you all the jewelry you wanted, if only that would make you mine. But unfortunately, it's not just any jewelry. It's a token. It's her token of another man. A man she freely declares she loves, a man she mourns, a man whose killer she curses to the deepest pits of Nifleheim.

What do I find so odd, you ask? The fact that I'm standing here, along with her two companions, my old friend Mysty and that big warrior Arngrim, helping her look for that stupid earring. Heh. In hindsight, it may not be so stupid after all. If the only thing of her left to me was something like this, I'd damn near well do anything in my power to hold on to it. Out of the three of us, I'm the only one actually observing her. Arngrim and Mysty long ago turned away, unable to bear the sight of their usually calm and collected Battle Maiden in distress.

In fact, I highly doubt any of them know how to deal with a situation like this. And I do, you ask? Maybe. After all, I'm in a similar position, wouldn't you agree? I love her, yet she loves another. By all means, I should be happy, dancing with joy that my rival is out of the way. That she's free of him so I can move in in his stead.

If only things were that easy. Emotions are a double-edged sword. They allow us to feel, to care, to mourn, and to grow. They teach us what we need in life. In my quest to make Valkyrie more human, and me more divine, it seems that I didn't have to do anything at all. She's right there, crying, mourning over a love lost. The logical part of me screams to just go to her, now, and take what should have been mine. Yet that's something I cannot, will not do. Grief takes time, and until the pain dulls, she will not love another.

I know that all too well. After all, I'm in the same state. Only, I'll never get over her. The pain of knowing she loves another will never dull. So, I know that I cannot have her, ever. I don't usually cry, but the realization that she'll never look at me as anything other than a little, psychopathic sorcerer strikes me. Hard. It cuts deeper than her sword, hits harder than a physical blow.

Oh, I hate that little bastard called Lucian, all right. You think you know why? Well, let me prove you wrong. He holds her heart; but that's not why I hate him. I hate him because the idiot had to go and do something stupid to prove his love for her and get himself killed. The result? One crying Chooser of the Slain. Surprised? I was, myself, when I finally realized the reason for my hate.

It's true, though. I can't bear to see the woman I love cry. Her tears claw at my soul. She's strong, by nature, a proud and passionate woman, the lady Valkyrie. To see her broken like this, it pains me more than words can express. I find myself contemplating different ways to possibly bring that twerp back alive, but for all my knowledge, for all my genius and insanity, I cannot think of a way to restore a soul that was annihilated by the Dragon Orb.

There is nothing I can do. I cannot bring him back, and I cannot comfort her. So, I find myself prodding through the flowers and dirt in the dimming sunlight, looking for a small sapphire-studded earring.

I pause, sitting back on my haunches, bracing myself against the ground with one hand as I look up at Lenneth's huddled form. Why call her Lenneth now, all of a sudden? I didn't know her name until Arngrim let it slip. It's a beautiful name, for an equally luscious woman. But what originally drew me to her was her quiet strength, her determination, her resolution.

Calling her Valkyrie then seemed right…just as calling her Lenneth now. Calling her by her name makes her seem more human, more approachable. As Valkyrie, she was larger than life. She was a goddess, the very measure of divinity. But Lenneth…she is vulnerable, and hurt. She feels, and she feels strongly.

But she doesn't feel for me. She's kneeling, now, her face buried in her hands as she sobs his name over and over and over. And the only thing I can do is sit and watch. Sometimes, I hate being me. Her usually pristine pale blue armor is covered in dirt, and her long, silvery-blue hair, once highlighted with streaks of fiery orange from the setting sun, is caked with dried mud. She shudders, taking a deep breath, before resuming her frantic searching. I'm closest to her, and I have to strain to pick out her pained whisper, but I can hear it. And it tears into my heart.

"Lucian…no, I can't have lost it! I must find it…Lucian!"

The pain in her voice will probably haunt my nightmares until I die. Wait, I'm already dead. Her gloved hands brush across the ground, searching between fallen blossoms and rocks, her eyes moving with a crazy need. I'll admit it, it scares me to see her so. It scares me to see the woman I love like this. And I feel angry. Angry at Loki, for being the cause of all this, and angry at Lucian for dying and leaving her. For breaking her heart.

The sun finally dies, and as the last light fades away, she finally stops, and collapses onto her hands and knees. I've never been a religious person, but at this moment I pray. I pray to all the gods who would listen, to all the demons who would want a piece of my soul. I'd give it in an instant if it meant making her happy again. I need glasses to see, but I'm not blind. And most of all, I'm not a fool. I didn't see much of her, but even as I occassionally scryed her, I could see how at peace she was with him. How alive she looked. How human.

I'd give anything to have that side of her back.

Anything.

I hold back my tears. It wouldn't do for both of us to cry now, especially since she wouldn't understand. I glance down as my gloved fingers find something. Pulling it up out of the dirt and into the dim moonlight, I see a small pale blue stone that matches the color of her armor and her eyes exactly. At least this Lucian had had good taste. Surrounding the stone was a small golden band, and the metal wire that connected it to the earclip was stylized after the rune of life: Sigel.

For a moment I contemplate keeping it, never showing it to you. To just let Lucian become another ghost for you. It'll be harsh, but you'll forget eventually. Who am I kidding? You're not the kind to forget. You are still crying, although quietly now. Behind us, Arngrim and Mysty have long since given up searching and are standing guard over us. Over you, to be precise. I know those two don't trust me.

Looking at the small piece of jewelry that means so much to you, I take off my glove and just leave it there. I make my way over to you slowly, until I kneel before you. You are so lost in your grief you don't even notice my presence. You never noticed my presence, until I started killing people. Well, that was probably not one of my better moments, but I was getting desperate to get your attention.

I place my hand on yours, slowly prying open the fingers you have clenched into a tight fist. Slowly, I begin untying the cord that holds your metal gauntlets to your bracers, and slide it off. You finally notice my touch, and look up, anger in your eyes.

"What are you doing, necromancer?"

Your voice is chilly, devoid of life. It has a dangerous quality to it, one that warns me that one wrong move could effectively earn me a trip to the afterlife by your sword. I force a small smile on my lips as I gently brush the dirt from your palm.

"That which we love should always be handled with a clean hand, my lady Valkyrie." I place the earring in her palm and close her fingers around it, before withdrawing.

Your expression remains unreadable for a moment, before you clutch the piece of jewelry to your bosom, the tears running anew. I want to hold you, comfort you, dry your tears. But I know that I can't. To hell with that. Let me feel you, let me know the feeling of holding you in my arms – just once.

I reach out, slowly, gently lifting your chin with two fingers as I wipe at your tears with my thumb. I can't help but notice how the pale moonlight highlights your silver hair, how smooth your skin feels under my hand. Your eyes bore into mine, and for the first time, for the very first time, I see something other than indifference. I see gratitude and relief. You manage a weak smile as the tears keep flowing.

Awkwardly, I pull you into my embrace, surprised when you not only don't complain, but wrap your arms around me, as well. I kneel there for a while, holding you as you cry, knowing that this is as close as I'll ever get to you.

When the tears have run their course, you pull back slowly. I stand, and offer you a hand up. You take it, surprising me yet again, and as you stand, you smile again. Do you not know what you are doing to me with that smile, my dearest Valkyrie? I'd do anything to see you smile again.

You lean in close, and whisper. "Thank you, Lezard."

I can only stand there in shock. You…you called me by my name. Not "necromancer," not "mage," or "evil sorcerer," but Lezard. I shake myself out of my stupor as you begin to turn your back on me. "My lady Lenneth." You turn around at the sound of your given name.

You're going. Leaving for Asgard, to deal with that bastard Loki. I wish I could come with you, but only you and your Einherjar are allowed to travel to the city of the gods. And after that…I don't know what will happen.

"Lenneth, know what I will always be there for you. Always." It's the only thing I can say. There's no dissuading you from the path you chose, and I fear you must walk it alone. You look at me, and I'm stunned once again. Despite your sorrow, despite your tears, here, under the moonlight, you are perfect. You are beautiful beyond words.

"Loki will pay for this. He will pay." I smile at your oath. Coming from you, I'd expect nothing less. The thought that you might loose doesn't even cross my mind. That is my faith in you. "You may accompany us, if you wish."

I shake my head. "Asgard is not a place for me. I am not allowed entry." I give you a crooked smile. "I shall leave Asgard in your hands, while I deal with matters on Midgard."

I can see the idea shocks you. You're surprised, and I can't blame you. I'm shocked myself. When did I turn into a do-gooder? The answer presents itself to me almost instantly. Ever since it would make you happy and lessen your burden.

"You would maintain peace on Midgard?"

"If you wish it so, my lady." I cannot resist. You're too beautiful, and without your helmet, I can see your face clearly. I conjure up a small ethereal white rose and place it behind your ear. "Leave matters to me."

You nod and walk back towards Mysty and Arngrim. Together, you teleport up to Asgard. Before you completely fade out of sight, I catch your eye, and for once drop all pretenses and masks. For a moment, your eyes pierce into my very soul, and see all that is buried down there. My love for you, my sorrow. And I smile at you. You will have to go on. Loki is yours to deal with.

And down here on Midgard, I shall be waiting for you.

Remember, that you shall always be the beloved of Lezard Valeth.


End file.
